


Grand Prix de l'Amour

by clarias



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, canon AU, korra loses her bending AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarias/pseuds/clarias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami has fought the Equalists but now she has to get her company back, battling distrustful officials, awkward exes and de-powered avatars who get underfoot.</p>
<p>An AU after book 1: Korra lost her bending completely and didn't get it back</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Prix de l'Amour

**Author's Note:**

> Korra not having her bending is a pre-occupation of mine and it even snuck into this Asami-centric fic. Oops.

It's harder than she thought it would be. There's so much crap to wade through: releasing her father's bank accounts, persuading a half-refutable lawyer to represent her. The company is tied down tight, the stench of Equalism seemingly impossible to shift even with Amon dead and her father locked up.

When an officious little bureaucrat looks her in the eye and tells her that there's no evidence she isn't an Equalist spy she wants to spit in the bastard's face and show him the burns she got fighting for his damned right to flick water about. Unfortunately he has the final say on Future Industries' legal status so she smiles sweetly and pushes a fat envelope across the desk. It's dirty, but Asami's hands haven't been clean for some time.

Her father explained the workings of democracy to her when she was twelve and just beginning to sit in on business meetings. As the safety inspector left the two men shook hands warmly and as smooth as silk Hiroshi slipped him two crisp tickets. When she had asked, he said that the inspector was a big pro-bending fan and daddy had managed to get him box tickets to the final. And if the inspector was happy, the company was happy too.

It was just the way things worked: the accountants made allowances for bribes as much as for materials and R&D. The "hospitality" budget eased many wheels and skirted the slower aspects of Republic City's administration.

It's a complicated feeling that knots her stomach when she finally reopens the doors to the Future Industries factory. A tiny, childish part of her hopes her daddy would be proud of her in this moment, and a prouder part laughs that people thought she wouldn't reach this point. She knows, though, that this is only the beginning, and as hard as she'd had to work to get her company back it'll be twice as bad keeping it.

No one wants anything to do with her, she can barely walk down the street without a firebender's flames coming too close, an earthbender tripping her up. Who would buy a Satomobile?

She manages to recruit about half of the designers and engineers her father had employed (she suspects they're the ones who sympathised with his politics) and she gathers them in the cramped office above the factory. She sits at her father's desk and tries not to let it swamp her. These are the facts: they need to be profitable in six months or they're sunk. Specifically, Asami is sunk and will probably have to start begging in the streets. Or worse.

She makes them analyse every nut and bolt of the old designs, work out how to make the Satomobile run faster and better for cheaper.

Everyone will be driving one in a year.

She woos twelve different iron tycoons until one makes her an offer that isn't a complete joke. It turns out his daughter is a rabid Fire Ferret fan (she thinks Mako is dreamy - Asami's smile is brittle) and she promises them season tickets as long as the contract lasts. When she hints that little Jojo could even meet her hero… the offer becomes a lot more attractive.

She runs into Mako himself, in some classy restaurant she's straining her wallet to entertain clients at. He's with a girl, she thinks she might recognise her from one of the more successful pro-bending teams. He freezes, looks embarrassed. She smiles her most charming smile and tells him off teasingly for not introducing her to his friend. She is a pro-bender. Figures.

She says she has to be going and he says they should see each other soon, she agrees. She goes back to the factory and opens the bottle of whiskey Hiroshi kept in the deepest recesses of his desk. That could have gone worse.

Four months after opening those doors Asami looks up to see a very sheepish avatar standing in her office. She's changed. She looks smaller.

She needs somewhere to stay. Just for now, she says. It's too much, staying with the airbenders. She doesn't even mention Mako and Bolin.

Asami supposes she can see how it would be hard to be with benders for her, a constant reminder of what she lost. When she asks what Korra has been doing with herself, she shrugs. Nothing much.

So she leads the avatar upstairs and opens the door to her apartments. Korra looks around in confusion and Asami has to explain - the mansion is currently being rented by a very nice fire nation family as a summer home. And the basement is filled in with concrete. The other girl asks if there's a futon. Asami prepares for her life to her life to get a lot more complicated.

Korra spends her time moping. She spots the other girl flicking through her library but Korra complains that they're all horrendously boring. They're mostly economics and engineering and pilfered from her father's old collection.

After a week she's sick of it and invites Korra down to help in the office. She starts by filing (complaining as she goes) then works on Asami's diary. She points out that Asami hasn't scheduled anything remotely fun for months. Asami ignores her.  
Korra stops short of anything involving the outside world and nearly freezes when one of the shop floor managers comes up to talk. She quickly excuses herself upstairs. The manager look at her questioningly and Asami just has to shake her head and remind him he had something to discuss.

Asami understands not wanting people to see you, she just can't afford the luxury.

Production is as streamlined as possible, the designs are good. People just aren't buying them. She meets her publicity manager every day and hashes out every possible approach until they scream that unless she can magically make her father not a terrorist they're stuck. They expect her to fire them, so she doesn't. But she turns the problem over in her mind.

Korra is still bullying her to take a day off and in the interests of a peaceful life she offers to take the other girl down to the test track. She argues it's still technically work but agrees. They've been living and working together in two rooms for a month. They need the air.

Asami finally gets to teach Korra how to drive and is surprised by what a good pupil she is. She complains the whole time and can barely stand criticism but she takes to the road like a tigerfish to water. Asami realises she's been learning physical motions and reactions since she could walk.

After that, she can barely tear Korra away from the track. With a stopwatch in hand, registering an all time best, Asami has an idea. She tightens her fist.

Who better to wipe off the stain of her family history than the avatar?

She calls a press conference as big as she can and poses the challenge: a race in a month's time, free for any car manufacturer to enter, and if anyone beats the Satomobile they take one million yuan. And the star attraction? None other than their driver, Avatar Korra.

That gets them talking.

The buzz is intoxicating and the news outpaces her to the factory. As she steps onto the floor the workers cheer and she lets the moment wash over her, the hope and enthusiasm, before she looks up to her office where she can see a very angry avatar looking down at her.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself.

Korra isn't happy. There is a lot of shouting. She knew this would happen, had prepared herself for Korra's betrayed eyes, but she hadn't expected it to hurt this much.

Korra almost whispers - she wished Asami had only asked. Instead she used her. It's a knife in the gut.

Tears sting her eyes. She knew this would happen! This was part of the plan, this is what it would take to get her life back!  
Her stomach opens up into a pit of guilt and apologies spill from her lips. She takes it all back, she can't break Korra like this, not the way everyone else has broken her. Her face is wet with tears.

Korra breaks the stillness by laughing. She's never seen Asami so animated, she says. Asami joins in damply and they hug.

Korra suggests they get dinner so they haul themselves upstairs and Korra fishes out some leftover rice and fries it with eggs and onions and within five minutes they're eating. Korra keeps sneaking furtive glances at Asami until she snaps and asks if she has egg on her face. Korra twists uncomfortably and takes out a cloth, wets it and leans in. She gently dabs at Asami's eyes. The cloth comes away black with mascara. With her eyes closed she can practically taste the softness of Korra's words when she whispers in her ear. I hate it when you look sad.

She pulls back a little way, not nearly enough.

The race approaches and Asami spends more and more time at the track. She can feel a new tug towards Korra and follows it whenever she can. She rests her hand on the other girl's back, tucks her hair behind her ear and finds any excuse to hug. It would feel stranger if Korra didn't fall so easily in her gravity, repaying her touch for touch. She wonders whether she feels the same pull.

Her money is running out. She looks over the accounts in bed and tries to find ways to cut back, spend less, but there's no way around the problem that not enough Satomobiles are being bought. If they lose the race she'll be bankrupt. If they win and sales don't change, she'll still be bankrupt but maybe she can sell the company.

The night before the race she runs a final eye over her outfit: an exquisite cheongsam in embroidered silk, the Future Industries logo resting between her shoulderblades. Cut backs are one thing, but keeping up appearances are another.  
Korra is a bundle of nerves, pacing the small room incessantly, muttering about corners and optimum angles.

Asami catches her arm and makes her stand still. She can still feel the tug between them and more than anything she wants to follow it, cross the rest of the distance between them and kiss Korra, but she's too afraid she has the wrong idea.

Luckily, Korra has never been a planner or an over-thinker.

Korra kisses her desperately, unreservedly. Asami knows this should be strange, for the longest time all they had in common was a boy they were both in love with, but it's perfect. The way she can slide her hand into Korra's thick dark hair, the way their bodies press together, Korra just a few inches shorter than her so she can tip her chin up to kiss her. Perfect.

They tumble onto the futon Korra has been calling home for the last few months and find each other easily, hands and mouths gripping and sucking, kissing and caressing. It's surprising how natural it is to fall into, as if their bodies have just been waiting for them to get on with it. Asami learns Korra has to have a five minute breather after an orgasm (during which they cuddle and Asami nearly goes mad with sexual frustration) and that futons are great in the moment but they need to decamp to her mattress for the part where they fall asleep tangled together (Asami's frustration turned to complete delightful satisfaction).

They make love again in the morning and by the time they've stretched out and ridden the buzzing pleasure as far as they can, they're late and they have to scramble to dress.

Asami scolds herself but she still catches Korra for a scorching kiss before they leave.  
The day is perfect: warm with a gentle breeze, spring in the air and a massive turnout. Seven cars are competing and their teams of mechanics are all working frantically at last minute calibrations and adjustments, the drivers psyching themselves up for the contest.

The crowd roars for Korra, and Asami sees the relief there, sees that she thought they might hate her.

The starter's pistol. They screech into gear and seven cars fly off the start line. Asami can feel the weight of a million yuan on her chest; she prays that Korra can pull it off.

The cars approach the finish line and it's neck and neck between the Satomobile and the Cabbagecar. Asami grips her seat.

On the last corner, Korra executes it perfectly and pulls ahead by a wheel. The checkered flag waves.

The crowd erupts with cheers and Asami joins them, on her feet and screaming herself hoarse. She's safe.

She runs past security into the engineering bay where Korra is unzipping herself from her sticky racing suit and without thinking she kisses her, buoyed by the moment's pure triumph. The crowd cheers even harder.

They pull back enough to smile at each other. They made it.


End file.
